


Once Upon a Dream

by gryvon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Everyone Is Alive, Evil Kate Argent, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Nightmares, Prophetic Visions, Protective Derek, Psychic Abilities, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-05 19:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12801087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryvon/pseuds/gryvon
Summary: Stiles has been dreaming of the Hale family burning alive since he was a child. After being locked in Eichen for a year, Stiles learns to keep his visions to himself. That doesn't stop him from keeping an eye on Derek Hale while he waits for Kate Argent to make her move. Only watching Derek becomes loving Derek and stopping Derek and Kate from getting together turns into Stiles dating Derek Hale. He's in love with Derek but his visions haven't stopped, only now he has to watch Derek die with the rest of his family. He'll do anything to keep that dream from becoming reality.





	Once Upon a Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Toxin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toxin/gifts).



"Mop up that drool, Stilinski."

Stiles jerks back, nearly falling out of his chair as Cora Hale sits down across from him. "I'm not-"

Cora snorts. "Don’t even try. What's got you mooning over my brother today? Besides his existence, of course."

Derek Hale is attractive. Stiles is not denying that, but there's more to it. He feels connected to the Hales. Stiles has had visions of Kate Argent burning the Hale family alive since he was a child, but he can't tell anyone about Kate's plot because it hasn't happened yet. Instead, Stiles groans and drops his head in his hands. He should be used to this. Half the school thinks he has a crush on Derek, just because Stiles is waiting for Kate Argent to show up. Again, can't say that. He doesn't want to end up in the looney bin. Again.

"What are we teasing Stiles about?" Scott asks ever so helpfully as he drops into his usual seat next to Stiles.

"His obvious crush on my brother."

Scott shows his best friend qualities by not smiling. Instead he nods his head serenely. "Okay." Scott bumps his shoulder against Stiles's and for a blissful moment, Stiles thinks Scott's going to let it drop. "At least he's single now. He broke up with Paige last month, right?"

Stiles narrows his eyes at his best friend. "Not. Helping."

"What are we not helping with?" Erica asks as she sits on Stiles's other side. "I'm the best at not helping."

Stiles pushes aside his tray and drops his head onto the table. "I give up."

"No," Cora says, both of her hands landing on his shoulders hard enough to press him further against the table. "You must stay strong and one day, maybe if he's drunk enough, you'll win his heart. Or at least his dick."

Stiles snorts. "Really? Perv." He rolls his eyes and pulls his tray back to poke at the spaghetti.

So maybe he does have a stupid crush on Derek Fucking Hale. How could he not? Derek hit a growth spurt last year and now he's stupid tall with his stupid eyes and his stupid face and really, what's not to like? Derek's a star on the basketball team but he's not a jerk about it. He's actually really nice. Cora's told him a few stories about Derek's soft side and inner dorkitude, which has only made Stiles more interested in him.

"Your brother's straight," Stiles mumbles into the table. It's a token protest and they all know it. He's been playing the denial game for so long. He's not going to stop now. “He doesn’t even know I exist.”

Cora's smile is wicked. "Of course he does. I talk about you all the time. And you never know. Just because he hasn’t dated a boy doesn’t mean he wouldn’t."

Stiles sighs. He does know. Derek falls in love with Kate and that's how the Hale family dies. His only comfort is that he never sees Cora, Derek, or Laura among the faces of the dead. He knows how awful losing his mother was for him. He can't imagine what it will be like for them, losing their whole family.

He's going to do his best to ensure that doesn't happen.

* * *

Of course, fate decides to fuck with Stiles. He's on his way to his Jeep after track practice when that too familiar feeling of dread hits him. It's like Spiderman's danger sense, but tied to his visions. Something important is happening. He turns just in time to see movement in one of the classrooms. Being the eternal snoop he is, he backtracks to peek in the window. His eyes go wide as he sees Derek and that woman. Kate. She's touching Derek's shoulder and Stiles reacts before thinking.

He throws the door open, a fake smile on his face as he grabs Derek's arm. Inside he's seething and it's hard to hide the all-consuming hatred he has for this woman. "Hey, Derek." Stiles speaks right over Kate, barely even glancing in her direction. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you. Come on. Time to go."

Surprise covers Derek's face, but he doesn't resist as Stiles pulls him out of the classroom, down the hall, and around a corner. Stiles lets go and peeks back to make sure they aren't being followed. The hallway is clear.

"What was that?"

Stiles cringes. Right. Derek. Who he'd just physically assaulted and spoke to like they know each other. They've never even spoken before and here Stiles is acting like a crazy person. Which he kind of is. He can only imagine the stories Cora must have shared with her family. Even without seeing the future, Stiles has always been odd.

He blushes and rubs the back of his head. He can't even look Derek in the face right now. Still, he'll take embarrassment over fiery death any day. "Shit. Sorry about that. It's just..." She kills your entire family and I don’t want them to die. "She had that whole cougar vibe going and you looked like you needed a save."

"Is that so?" Derek's voice is so flat it hurts. Stiles can feel himself shrinking into the floor.

"Sorry," Stiles says again. "You probably could have handled it." He risks a glance up and those are some very judgmental eyebrows. "You definitely could have handled it. Totally. You got it, but yeah, stranger danger and all that. She seriously gives me the creeps. Who is she, anyway? I haven't seen her before. That was bordering on inappropriate touching. You should report her. Get her sent far, far away. Or to jail. Jail is good. My dad's the sheriff. I can call him right now. Just say the word."

Stiles is babbling. He snaps his mouth shut before anything else can tumble out, like 'hey, she wants to kill you.' That wouldn't be good. Silence stretches between them and Stiles's cheeks burn hotter with every passing second. He wishes he could just fade into the wall. He's dreamt of someone who can do that, but Cory’s not here yet. It'd be a sweet power to have, though. Instead, Stiles is stuck with visions of death, destruction, and, one notable time, dismemberment.

Derek clears his throat and Stiles looks up. Then he looks again because Derek's got a shit-eating grin on his face, no hint of the previous anger. "So, you're going to pretend that had nothing to do with the huge crush you have on me?"

Stiles's blush does a complete three-sixty as he pales. "No! Wait. What? I don't-" Each protest only makes Derek's grin larger. "Fuck," Stiles says, with feeling. He scrubs a hand over his face. "You weren't supposed to notice that."

"Kinda hard not to. The whole school knows." Derek is so fucking smug.

Stiles groans and falls against the wall. "Kill me now."

"I'd rather not."

Stiles glares. "Let me guess. You'd rather make fun of me instead?"

"Actually, I was going to ask you out, but if you'd rather not… I can go ask Ms. Smith if she'd like to do any more inappropriate flirting while we discuss my English paper. It's on 'Things Fall Apart.' I don't think anyone can be sexy while talking about that book."

Stiles stares. Then he stares some more. He’s pretty sure his jaw has dropped all the way to the floor and that is totally unsanitary. He's knows what's been on that floor.

Derek's grin doesn't even falter. "So, is that a yes or a no? I'm not very good at reading minds."

Right. Answer. He can do words. "I- What? You- But-" Stiles shakes himself. He's making no sense. Derek just asked him out and he's fumbling his words like an idiot. There's only one thing he can say, even if it feels like a bad, bad idea. "I mean, yes. Yes, I would like that. Dating. With you."

"Cool." Derek holds his hand out. "Give me your phone."

Stiles hands it over without thinking. His mind's still spinning from the fact that Derek Fucking Hale asked him out. Derek likes him. This is a completely unforeseen turn of events, which is pretty fucking uncommon considering Stiles can see the future. How has he not seen this? Seriously, future sight, priorities!

Derek's pocket buzzes and Derek hands Stiles's phone back. "There. You have my number and I have yours."

Stiles feels dazed as he looks down at his phone and then snorts a laugh. Derek's labeled himself 'The Hotness' in Stiles's contacts. Stiles's lips quirk up. "A bit presumptive, don't you think?"

Derek puts his hands on either side of Stiles’s head and leans over Stiles. His voice drops low. "Nah. I know you think I'm hot."

Something heavy and warm settles in the pit of Stiles’s stomach, weighing him down like a cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter night. Stiles opens his mouth. He feels like he should say something, make some sort of witty retort, but he has no idea what to say. He can't argue with it. He thinks Derek’s hotter than the sun and Stiles desperately wants to burn.

Derek leans the rest of the way down to press a kiss to Stiles's forehead. The blush that follows covers Stiles from his head to his toes. It doesn't help that Derek slides his arm around Stiles's waist and guides him out of the hall. "Come on. Let me walk you to your car."

"O-Okay."

As they walk out of the school, Stiles catalogs the feeling of Derek's arm around him, Derek's smile, Derek's face. He feels like he's dreaming but everything is too sharp to be a dream. Besides, his dreams are never this happy.

* * *

Stiles is still smiling when he finally forces himself to go to sleep. Derek's been texting him all evening, something Stiles knows is going to earn him the third degree from his father soon. It started off with tentative plans for a movie Friday and then devolved into a deep discussion on their favorite movies and a debate between Marvel and DC. Stiles is firmly in the DC camp but Derek is all about Marvel. There have been promises of comic trades.

Stiles sleeps great for the first part of the night. He's done it. He's stopped Kate Argent and that means the nightmare that has been haunting him for years will finally go away.

At three in the morning, he wakes up screaming. His father is in the room in seconds but nothing he says makes it through to Stiles. Not even his father's arms around him helps bring him back to reality.

He dreamed of the fire again, only this time Derek, Laura, and Cora were burning with the others.

* * *

Stiles sees Cora first. The Hales are usually early to school thanks to carpooling and extra-curricular activities. He finds Cora at her locker and wraps her in a tight hug from behind.

"Hello to you too, Stilinski." They're in an awkward position so Cora shuffles a bit to wrap an arm around his back. He's shaking and he can't help it. Cora's grip turns into an equally tight hug as soon as she notices. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Stiles forces himself to pull away. He feels like an idiot as he wipes away the tears that threaten to fall. He's not going to cry at school. Not over a fucking dream. "Sorry," he says. "Nightmare."

Cora nods and pats him on the shoulder. Stiles's friends know about his terrible nightmares. It's why he never goes to sleepovers and only lets Scott stay the night at his place. Scott had his own share of nightmares after his dad left, so he sympathizes. He doesn’t know that Stiles's nightmares are gruesome visions of deaths to come, but that’s a price Stiles is willing to pay to keep his oldest and closest friend.

"Just for that," Cora says, "I won't tease you about protecting my brother's virtue."

Stiles's face goes red. "W-What!?"

Cora grins. "You saved him from a vicious cougar attack." She mimes claws. It's somehow funnier knowing that she's a werewolf with actual claws hidden under her skin but she doesn't know that he knows.

Stiles rolls his eyes, but his blush doesn't fade. "She was a creeper. I was just a concerned citizen performing my civic duty, which is possibly influenced by the fact that my father is the Sheriff and that I’ve had to sit through at least a dozen bad touch lectures." That's the story he's sticking to. It sounds better than trying to stop a mass murderer. He cringes. He’s somehow made it worse and Cora’s death is now directly the fault of his meddling.

Cora pulls him into another hug. He tucks his head against her shoulder. He wishes he could just give up this existence and all the pain it promises. "You are a true hero. Henceforth, you shall be known as the champion against no-no-bad-touch."

Stiles laughs into her t-shirt. "That sounds horrible."

"Yeah," Cora says and turns back to her locker. She pulls out her phone and Stiles takes the opportunity to escape to his own locker where there will be less mocking.

Scott gives Stiles a sympathetic smile as they both reach their lockers at the same time. "Rough night?"

Stiles nods. He knows he looks like absolute shit but he couldn't be bothered to do anything about it this morning. He couldn’t even eat. The very thought of food had made his stomach roll. He blinks and sees fire, hands grasping at bars meant to keep intruders out instead of victims in. He reaches out to steady himself against the wall of lockers before he falls over. He's never going to get those images out of his head.

Strong arms wrap around him, pulling him back against a broad chest. Warmth like a fuzzy blanket enfolds him, making him melt against the other person. “Hey there, sweetness.”

Stiles goes through a rapid flash of who-what-why before he remembers that he has a boyfriend now. Somehow. Amazingly.

Scott’s staring, mouth open, and he’s not the only one. Every student in the hall has turned to look at them and Stiles can hear whispers echoing even further out. He can guess exactly what they’re saying too. What is star basketball player Derek Hale doing with a freak like Stilinski? Stiles is just as clueless as they are.

“Why 'sweetness?'” is not what Stiles expects to come out of his mouth but there it is.

Derek’s lips brush against Stiles’s neck in a soft, barely there caress that sends shivers down Stiles's spine. He could get used to this whole kissing and touching thing. “Because 'hotness' is already taken.”

Stiles knows he’s beet red, but he doesn’t care. For one brief moment he feels safe. Like everything is going to be all right and no one’s going to die. There will be no fire. Stiles won't lose his friends. If he could just freeze time in this moment so that Derek never has to let go, then everything would be good. Safe. But he knows that can't happen and he will eventually have to leave Derek's embrace, at least by the time Stiles gets to Chemistry because Harris is the definition of killjoy.

“Um, okay.” Stiles grins sheepishly at Scott. “So, I may have neglected to inform you that Derek and I are dating? I guess?”

Before Scott has a chance to respond, Derek’s arms tighten around him and Derek growls faintly against Stiles’s neck, so low that no one else hears it but the sound goes straight to Stiles’s core. “Don’t guess. We are dating.”

That’s it. Stiles is done. His brain has officially melted out of his ears. Schooling is no longer a necessity because what are words. Derek presses his nose against Stiles’s neck and really, that scenting thing is so obvious. It’s also very, very hot.

“Oh,” Scott says, since he’s the only one of them not thinking with his dick right now. “I’m Scott. Nice to meet you.”

Scott and Derek shake hands without Derek ever letting Stiles go. The first bell rings and Stiles groans because he’s so not up to dealing with mundane schoolwork today. Scott grins and leaves Stiles with a promise to catch up second period.

Derek still hasn’t let go.

“Uh, not that I mind, but I think we’re in different classes first period.”

Derek runs his nose up Stiles’s throat. His lips brush against Stiles’s ear as he speaks, low enough that only Stiles can hear. “Cora said you were upset. You can talk to me, if you want. I’m a great listener.”

Stiles swallows and nods. He desperately wishes he could. He wishes he could just march up to the Hale house and lay it all out, but he already knows what happens when he tells someone. People die anyway, and he ends up in the loony bin. He can’t handle a repeat of that. His relationship with his dad is too strained as it is.

“It’s nothing,” Stiles says and hopes that he means it enough that Derek doesn’t sense the lie. “Just a bad dream.” He reluctantly pulls away and turns to give Derek a shy smile. “I’ll text you later?”

Derek presses a kiss to Stiles’s cheek. “Later,” Derek promises. Then Derek is gone. Stiles stays frozen in place, watching him leave.

The second bell rings. Stiles gets detention for being late to class.

* * *

Stiles knows he’s being watched. It’s not just the stares and whispers that follow his every move through the morning. He expects that. He’s dating Derek Motherfucking Hale, a finely sculpted god brought down from the heavens to grace their school with his presence. Or so some people would say. People who are definitely not Stiles. He expects a certain amount of unwanted attention drawn his way, but this is different.

This feels like when his mom died, and Stiles wants nothing more than to leave Beacon Hills and never stop running.

It doesn’t take a genius to add two plus two and not get five. He messed up Kate Argent’s—or, Catherine Smith as she’s calling herself these days—plan and she’s wary of him. She has a good reason to be, but she doesn’t know that, doesn’t realize that Stiles is more than a student with a big fat crush and Stiles really wants to keep it that way.

He smiles at Scott as they walk from second period English to third period Chemistry and plays every inch of the besotted high schooler. It’s not hard. He is a besotted high schooler. He’s spent so long fantasizing about dating Derek Hale that he feels like he’s stuck in a rare pleasant dream. He half expects cupids to pop out of lockers and start serenading him.

But he’s also on edge. Kate is a hunter. The Argents have a code, but she doesn’t follow it. She’d kill him without even breaking a sweat and wouldn’t lose a single night’s sleep over it. He’s in her way and he knows it. The last thing he wants to do is give her any hint that he’s on to her, which means ignoring her existence entirely.

Stiles is not at all surprised that Kate just happens to come into the cafeteria during Stiles’s lunch period. He shoves an apple in his mouth, chewing and swallowing methodically while staring at her from the corner of his eye while he pretends that Laura Hale and her table of rowdy cheerleaders are more entertaining.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got hots for my twin too.”

Stiles bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, but it has the intended effect of keeping him from screaming. He turns his wide eyes on Derek who, for some strange reason, has put his tray down and settled next to Stiles at Stiles’s usual lunch table.

“What?” Stiles asks, his voice strangled.

Derek tilts his head toward Laura without ever taking his eyes off Stiles’s face. “My sister.”

Stiles looks over at Laura, who’s now smiling directly at him like she thinks this is all some big fucking joke. Stiles wants to yell at both of them to stop being so damn obvious. Instead, his mouth supplies, “No, I’m way more interested in your dick.”

It’s Derek’s turn to blush, all the way up to his ears. When Stiles’s brain catches up with his mouth, he’s blushing too.

“I… I didn’t mean that…”

Derek’s blush turns into a grin. That grin. The one that says Stiles is soooo fucked. Possibly literally. “So you’re not interested in my dick? You've never thought of all the interesting places I could put it?”

Stiles's brain short circuits. He hadn't really thought of that before but now he is. He can't stop wondering what it would be like to take Derek into his mouth. What would Derek feel like inside of him? “I… what? No! I mean, yes. Yes, that would be very, very awesome, but I didn’t… I wasn’t implying…”

“Close your mouth, Stilinski. We all know you want a ride on my brother’s disco stick.”

Stiles stares at Cora with absolute betrayal. Oddly, Derek’s blushing again and fuck, maybe Derek’s thought about that too. But they only started dating yesterday. Hell, they only officially met yesterday. Unless… unless Derek had maybe liked Stiles too, before all of this started.

Every single drop of Stiles’s blood is in his face. He shoves his tray aside and drops his head onto the table. He’s ready to die now, please. Where’s Kate Argent when he needs her?

That thought sends a shiver of fear down his spine, but the telltale chemosignals are masked by surprise as someone smacks Stiles on the back of the head. His forehead bounces off the table and he straightens to frown at Erica. “Ow.”

She points a scarily stern finger in his face. “That was for not telling me you’re dating Derek Hale.” Erica turns slightly. “Hi, Derek. I’m Erica, the evil side of Stiles’s external conscience.”

Their table is a whole lot more crowded than it was a few seconds ago. Boyd and Isaac are on Derek’s right, with Cora across from Derek. Scott’s across from Stiles and Erica drops into her usual seat on Stiles’s left. “Uh, hi.”

Cora rolls her eyes. “We all know these meatballs.” She waves her hand at Derek and Stiles, then starts pointing around the table. “Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Scott. There, we’re all introduced. Discussion topic of the day: how we’re soooo glad these two idiots finally stopped mooning over each other and did something about it.”

Stiles gapes. “What? You mean…”

Derek shrugs and leans closer to Stiles. He’s sitting sideways in his chair, so that his whole body is facing Stiles. “You’ve got nice hands and a very pretty mouth. Do you have freckles all over your body?”

He has no words. None. If he opens his mouth now, only inarticulate screeching noises would come out.

“He does,” Scott supplies. Traitor.

Erica shoves Stiles back against his chair so she can see Derek. “If you need to know his kinks, I can help. He gets all his good porn from me.”

“Erica!” That shriek at least sounded like a word. Sort of.

Erica grins like a shark.

“Noted.” Derek seems surprisingly interested and this is all moving way too fast for Stiles, all this talk of sex when he can still picture everyone dying.

The sex talk had helped distance that memory at least.

“No,” Stiles says. He gets a range of looks from confused—Scott—to disbelieving—Erica and Cora. Stiles blushes. “I mean, yes, sex, maybe. Later. Much later.” Stiles suddenly feels nervous and he looks away from Derek’s intent blue eyes. “Dating first. Please?”

Derek lifts Stiles’s hand and kisses his knuckles. “Of course, sweetness.”

Various pieces of paper, plastic, and food are thrown their way as the table groans en masse and fake-gags.

Scott thankfully steers conversation away from Stiles’s romantic life. Despite the awkwardness, Stiles is kind of grateful for the distraction from his dark thoughts. When he does a brief scan of the cafeteria, Kate Argent is gone.

Stiles is going to make sure it stays that way.

* * *

Derek is leaning against the Jeep when Stiles finally gets out of detention. He's obviously been waiting for Stiles but doesn't seem the least bit angry about it. A smile spreads across Stiles’s face, accompanied by a growing warmth in his chest. He is stupidly gone on Derek Hale. He is so obvious. He doesn't know why he ever thought it was a secret.

"Hey," he says, voice gone soft and fond.

"Hey back." As soon as Stiles is within arms’ reach, Derek takes Stiles’s hand and pulls him closer. Derek kisses Stiles on the cheek. He looks happy. Happier than he did when he was dating Paige. Stiles is still amazed that he can make Derek smile like that.

“I know we made plans for that movie on Friday, but I was hoping you might want to go grab something to eat.”

Stiles groans. Of all the days to get detention. “I, ah, I actually have plans. I could… It... It can wait.” He can put it off a few more days. Deaton doesn’t even know that Stiles plans to ambush him tonight. But Stiles needs what Deaton can teach him. He looks into Derek’s eyes and all he can see is fire.

"Nope," Derek says, still smiling. "I can wait. You have plans." Derek pulls away. Stiles is a little ashamed at the slight whine that escapes him as he reaches for Derek. Derek grins as he dances out of Stiles's reach. "Commitments are important. We have other days. How about tomorrow instead? I have basketball practice until four, but I could pick you up or meet you somewhere."

Stiles's eyes immediately dart to the sleek, black Camaro Derek's been driving ever since he got his license. "I wouldn't mind waiting around for you, but there is no way I'm turning down a ride in your Camaro."

"Cool." Derek shoves his hands in his pockets. "It's a date then. Text me your address and I'll pick you up, yeah?"

Stiles nods. He has a date! Well, technically they already had a date arranged, but now he has a date tomorrow, as long as Kate keeps her pyromania in check for another day. He's pretty sure tomorrow isn't a full moon.

That thought sobers him and fights to keep a smile on his face. He hopes Derek is far enough away and upwind, so he doesn't catch the confusing maelstrom of emotion inside of Stiles.

"Tomorrow," Stiles promises as he climbs in the Jeep. "It's a date."

Derek's still grinning as Stiles drives away. It further solidifies Stiles's resolve. He's going to make Deaton talk and then he's going to take down Kate Argent on his own. He's not letting anyone get in his way.

* * *

"Hello, Stiles," Deaton says as soon as Stiles walks in the front door. He looks up from the paperwork he'd been reviewing and smiles slightly. "Scott's not here tonight."

"I know." Stiles glances around the empty waiting room. He doesn't hear any animals in the exam rooms but that doesn't mean there isn't another person here. Stiles fixes his gaze on Deaton. "I'm here to talk to you. Privately."

Deaton doesn't look the least bit surprised. He holds the door to get into the back of the clinic open for Stiles. It's rowan. Mountain ash. Meant to keep unwanted supernaturals out, but it has no effect on Stiles except for a brief tingling sensation as he crosses the border.

"What can I do for you?" Deaton asks as they move into his small, cluttered office.

Stiles shuts the door behind him. His hands shake with nerves. He hides them behind his back and leans against the door. He's been planning this for a while, but saying it aloud still scares him. If someone other than Deaton overhears, he'll be sent to Eichen. Hell, Deaton might even send him to Eichen for this. "I need you to teach me magic."

"Magic?" Deaton says with false confusion. "I'm afraid you have me confused with someone else. I'm just a veterinarian."

Stiles rolls his eyes. He speaks with bravado he doesn't feel. "Cut the crap. I know you're a druid and I know the Hales are werewolves and you're their pack emissary." Stiles gains confidence as he speaks. Deaton's sister was the one who'd gotten Stiles out of Eichen House. She'd believed him when no one else would and she'd promised Deaton would help. Stiles has never called in that favor, but that doesn't excuse Deaton's failings in protecting his pack. He points a finger at Deaton. "You're doing a crappy job, by the way."

"Thank you for the unwarranted critique," Deaton drawls.

"What are you doing to protect them, huh? There are dangerous, psychotic hunters out there. There are Argents."

For a moment, it seems like Deaton is about to deny everything. Instead, his expression softens. "Yes, I remember what happened to your mother."

Those words are a punch to the gut. Stiles looks away as he blinks back tears. He was too young to do anything then. Too naïve. He trusted people he shouldn't have.

"I'm not going to let them die." Stiles doesn't realize he's speaking until the words are already out there. He flinches and hopes that Deaton didn't hear. One look says Deaton did.

"The Hales are in no danger," Deaton says. He places his hand on Stiles's shoulder. Stiles closes his eyes. This feels too much like Stiles's last day before Eichen House. "They're strong. They can take care of themselves."

Stiles shakes his head. "Not against this."

"It would help if you would tell me what 'this' is."

Stiles opens his eyes to stare at Deaton. He weighs the pros and cons. The Hales should be warned. He can't do it himself. Deaton knows Stiles isn't crazy, but Stiles can't chance word getting out about his ability.

"This didn't come from me."

Deaton nods and takes a seat on the edge of his desk. "I promise complete anonymity."

Stiles sighs and slumps back against the door. He stares up at the ceiling. "You're teaching me anyway."

"I will share what I know."

Stiles wets his dry lips. He can't believe he's doing this. Deaton is the one person in this whole town that it's safe to talk to but Stiles is so damn scared about being put back in that hellhole. He can't go back there. He just can't.

"It's a fire," Stiles says. "They're going to be burned alive. All of them. No survivors." He doesn't mention that the last part is because of him.

Deaton is silent for several minutes. Long enough that Stiles starts to tremble. He's going to get sent back. Deaton's going to call them and tell them Stiles is crazy.

He flinches when Deaton stands and turns to face his desk. Stiles's gaze is glued to Deaton's hand, but instead of reaching for the phone, Deaton pulls a thin leather journal off his cluttered shelves. "We'll start with this." Deaton offers Stiles the book. "You'll need to understand the basic theory before we go any further."

Stiles lets out an explosive breath. Deaton is kind enough not to comment on how badly Stiles's hands shake as he takes the book. It seems like such an innocuous object considering what it holds.

"Thank you." He means that for more than just the book. Thank you for believing him. Thank you for not betraying Stiles's trust. Thank you for not locking him away.

Deaton smiles and pulls out his desk chair, motioning Stiles to sit. "Tell me, Stiles, what do you know about ley lines?"

* * *

_Ride's here._

Stiles jumps up from the couch as soon as he gets Derek's text. John shoots him a curious look. "What's got you so excited?"

Stiles hesitates. It's not that he doesn't want to tell his dad about Derek, it's just that Stiles doesn't trust him. He hasn't trusted him since Eichen House. They both know it. John flinches and looks away, which only makes Stiles feel guiltier. It's been almost a decade. Shouldn't he be over it by now?

"It's..." Stiles starts, drawing John's attention back. John looks so damn hopeful. Stiles can't keep this from him. "I've got a date." John's eyes go wide. "With, um, with a boy."

Stiles fidgets with the phone in his hand. He's never talked to his dad about this kind of stuff. His crushes were held close to his chest, only shared with his friends. The ones he knew wouldn't betray him. He knows that's a horrible way to think about his dad, but he can't help it. He's still terrified that his dad is going to look at him one day and decide he's crazy. Again.

"Can I meet him?"

Stiles hesitates. He wants to say no. Derek is a werewolf and his dad is pretty perceptive when he wants to be. Would it be good or bad if his dad learned about werewolves? Would John finally believe him?

Stiles nods. "I'll just..." He gestures toward the front door. "I'll go get him, okay?" He doesn't wait for John's response.

Derek's Camaro is parked behind Stiles's Jeep. Stiles grins. Derek has the window down and shades on and his smile is dazzling. "Hey there, sweetness."

"Hey. Um..." He stops beside Derek's door. "My dad wants to meet you. If that's okay. You don't have to. It's just... I've never..."

"I'd love to," Derek says and all the nervousness drains out of Stiles, leaving him feeling pleasantly empty.

Stiles nods and steps back so Derek can shut off the car and get out. Stiles starts for the door. Derek catches up and grabs Stiles's hand. Warmth runs up Stiles's body at the touch. God, he really doesn't want to mess this up. Stiles is still smiling when he walks inside. John does a double-take. It's been a long time since Stiles smiled so easily in this house.

"So, dad, this is Derek. Derek, you do not have to call him Sheriff Stilinski, no matter what he says."

John stands and holds out his hand to Derek. "I wasn't going to do that, Stiles." He studies Derek for a second. "It's Hale, right? I've worked with your mom and your uncle a bit. They're good people."

Derek blushes and scratches the back of his head. "Thanks. Um... sir."

"Call me John." Derek nods. John glances at Stiles, weighing his words. "Maybe you can join us for dinner sometime."

Derek is oblivious to the tension between the Stilinski men. Stiles would like to keep it that way.

"I'd love to, sir. I mean... John."

"Okay," Stiles drags the word out. "That's enough of that." He hooks his arm around Derek's and turns them. "We are going out and you have to get ready for work. There's leftover vegetable lasagna in the fridge or a few pre-mixed salads."

Derek raises an eyebrow as Stiles shuts the door over his father's groans.

"He has a heart condition," Stiles explains. "Very minor, but his doctor is concerned about his heart health." It's left unsaid that John is the only family Stiles has left. Their relationship may be strained but Stiles still loves his father.

"You're a good son," Derek says, smiling as they climb in the car.

Stiles chooses to bask in the glory of the Camaro instead of answering. He's really not a good son. There are far too many lies between them. Layers upon layers. He's lied to Derek too. Their whole relationship is founded on a lie and Stiles hopes Derek never finds out. Stiles will take that secret to his grave if it means Derek will still love him.

"Your car is amazing." Stiles feels compelled to touch everything. Derek doesn't seem to mind. He smiles as he watches Stiles twist and turn to explore the car's interior.

"I'm glad you like it."

"How could I not? I'd have sex with this car."

Derek laughs. "Really, Stiles?" His tone is fond.

"Okay maybe not _with_ the car. Definitely on it or in it."

Derek's smile turns smug and he runs a hand down Stiles's leg. "Date first. Your words."

Stiles smiles back and settles into his seat properly. "And I mean that. Now, onward, driver of our mighty steed."

Derek doesn't stop laughing until they're at the end of the block.

* * *

Stiles's phone goes off at nine a.m. on Saturday. Stiles groans, takes one look at the caller ID and seriously considers letting it go to voicemail. He slaps the accept call button, puts it on speaker, and throws the phone on his pillow.

"Do you know what time it is, Erica?"

"I've been up since seven. You should be glad I let you sleep this long."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "What is so important you had to wake me up on a Saturday?" He doesn't have any plans until the afternoon—another meeting with Deaton, this time covering supernatural lore. He could still be asleep if it weren't for nosy best friends.

"Your date," Erica says. "How'd it go?"

Stiles seriously contemplates suffocating himself with his pillow. He'd heard somewhere that you can't do that anymore, but he's not sure if that applies to all pillows or just the ones in hospitals.

"I don't suppose you'd accept the 'fine' that I told Scott."

"I want details."

"Scott didn't need details."

"Scott is a sweet and naïve cinnamon roll, unlike you and I who are depraved horndogs. I know what porn you watch."

"That's because you send it to me."

"And you should thank me. I have good taste. And you rarely send any back. Why are you even on tumblr if you don't look at porn gifs?"

Stiles flips onto his back and sighs. "I have other interests. Sometimes. And before you ask, I have not had sex with Derek Hale."

"Boring," Erica sing-songs. "Tell me anyway. Spare no detail."

Stiles snorts. "I'm not spoiling the movie for you. I know you still want to see it. But it was nice. Derek's really interesting. We talked for hours on Wednesday and then again last night at the diner. It was good. Real good."

"Did he kiss you? Tell me you at least made out a little."

Derek's been kissing him since they started dating, but it's always been playful. A quick brush of lips on his neck. A chase kiss on his cheek or forehead, more for comfort than romance. Last night, though....

Stiles blushes. "We did. It was... it was really good. Derek's a good kisser and he didn't push too far. It's just like... Like he makes me warm inside."

"That's called lust, Stiles."

"No!" Stiles rolls to glare at the phone. "Not like that. Like, I don't know... Happy. Comfortable. Safe."

There's a long pause. Erica doesn't know the whole history of what happened when Stiles's mom died, but she knows it was bad. She knows how much safety means to him. It took him years to stop expecting everyone to betray him and there are very few places Stiles considers safe. Home is not one of them.

"I'm glad," Erica says at last, her voice soft. "You guys are perfect for each other."

Stiles smiles. He wishes Erica were here. They've spent hours curled up on his bed, sharing secrets and hopes and dreams. He's known her almost as long as he's known Scott.

"Also, I bet Derek's got a huge cock."

"Erica!"

She snickers, the sound turning tinny through the phone. "You love me and you know it."

"Unfortunately."

"Now, enough about you. Let's talk about me. Specifically, me and Boyd. He's hot and sweet and I want a piece of that. Think you can put in a good word via Derek?"

"You could just ask Boyd out. Use your words."

"Pfft. Words are for losers."

Stiles snorts. "Right. Sure, I'll talk to Derek." What he's really going to do is wait until lunch Monday, tell Boyd that Erica likes him, and then run and hide in the library.

She'll either thank him or kill him. He likes his odds.

* * *

Stiles should have known that when his life is going so good, something will happen to mess it up. He's walking from Chemistry to Calculus when he's shoved hard, face-first into a row of lockers. His head hits the metal and he sees stars. A handle digs into his chest.

"Listen here, Stilinski." He doesn't recognize the voice. He turns his head but that doesn't help either. He has no idea who these two assholes are. Seniors, judging by the size of them. "You need to cut the shit. You're loser trash and loser trash like you better step off Hale. He's out of your league."

Stiles blinks. He's earned his fair share of bullies over the years but this makes no sense. "Wait, what? Are you like... hoping to get with Derek, because you're really not his type."

He's hauled back and slammed forward again. His vision goes black for a second and he's pretty sure he shouts. Fuck, he's going to have an interesting set of bruises later.

"Break up with him," the guy says. His grip on Stiles's neck tightens and Stiles squirms to try and relieve some of the pressure. "This is your one and only warning."

"What the hell?" Stiles's mouth will always and forever get him into trouble. "You're fucking lunatics. No way I'm-"

He's spun so fast, he barely has time to notice the fist coming at his face. Then he's on the floor and spitting blood. His dad's going to be apoplectic. One of the guys kicks his midsection. Stiles thinks about living here on the cool floor. He hurts and he's dizzy. He knows he shouldn't get up, shouldn't aggravate them further, but he wouldn't be a Stilinski if he didn't.

"Hey!" A new voice enters the fray. "What the hell are you doing?"

The crowd of onlookers disperse, and the two assholes take off like the demons of Hell are after them. Stiles rolls over and leans against the lockers.

"Holy shit!" The voice resolves into the face of Laura Hale. She reaches for his face but hesitates to touch. "What did those assholes do to you?"

Stiles snorts. "Kick my ass, obviously."

Laura rolls her eyes and then hauls him up, lifting his weight like it's nothing. Werewolves. "Come on, you need to see the nurse. I'll have a chat with Reddick and Unger later."

"Yeah," Stiles says. "That's probably a good idea." He's not sure if he means the nurse or Laura being his avenging angel against the two bullies. Probably both.

He's dizzy, which isn't a good sign. He leans heavily on Laura. She's practically dragging him because his feet really don't want to cooperate, but they manage to stumble their way there shortly after the bell rings.

"You're gonna miss class," Stiles points out.

Laura laughs. "Yeah, Stiles. I am."

She's strange.

The nurse, Dr. Jeffords, is on his feet as soon as he sees them. He has Laura drop Stiles on a cot and writes her a note for class. Then Jeffords is prodding him and shining a light in Stiles's eyes and doing everything but letting Stiles pass out on the nice, soft cot.

"You're going to need X-rays," Jeffords says. "I'm going to call your parents so they can come pick you up."

Stiles groans but doesn't argue. He kinda hit his head a bunch of times so an X-ray is probably a good idea. His chest hurts. He really hopes nothing's broken. Halloween is coming up in a few weeks and Lydia throws an amazing party. He's already picked out a costume.

He should probably ask Derek if he's going. Cora and Laura usually do but Derek never seemed into parties. Should they do some cutesy couples costumes? Stiles chuckles. The first thing that comes to mind is Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. He could pull off a skirt, though it'd probably go against the whole slow roll thing he's been pushing. God, his friends are pervs. He fits right in.

"Stiles?" There's a hand on his shoulder. It's familiar, comforting. "You with me here, kid?"

Stiles blinks and smiles. "Heeeey, dad."

John drops his face into one hand. "Yep. You need the hospital. Come on, kid. Can you sit up?"

Stiles nods and the world spins.

"Okay, up we go." John's arm wraps around his waist as he helps Stiles stand. Stiles has missed this, the easy closeness.

The halls are empty as they head out to John's cruiser. At least Stiles gets to ride in the front instead of the back. He stares out the window as they drive away from school and all he can think of is Derek with wolf ears, chasing Stiles through the woods.

* * *

"Hey."

Stiles looks up from his laptop and a smile spreads across his face. Judging from the way Derek's features soften into fondness, Stiles is still acting a little goofy from the painkillers. "Hi."

Derek hesitates in the doorway. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course." Stiles does a quick visual sweep of his room. There's nothing embarrassing lying out that he can see and it's not a complete mess at this moment. He wonders what it smells like to Derek's enhanced senses. Does it reek of teenage boy? Derek doesn't seem to mind.

"How are you feeling?" Derek pulls over Stiles's desk chair.

Stiles shrugs. "Like I was up close and personal with a couple lockers. It's fine though. Nothing broken. Mild concussion. Could have been worse."

Derek sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. "It shouldn't have happened at all. What were they..." Derek groans. "Laura said it was about me."

"Hey!" Stiles nearly falls out of bed as he reaches for Derek's hand. Derek steadies him and Stiles squeezes the hand he finally managed to capture. "None of this," he gestures down his body with his free hand, "was about you. Guys like that are just looking for some excuse. They're probably homophobes or maybe one of them has a sister who has a crush on you. It's stupid high school drama and it's not your fault."

Derek's smile is so sweet. Stiles wants to take a picture so he can look at it forever. He just wants to wrap himself in Derek's arms.

Speaking of... Stiles sets his laptop to the side and scoots toward the other side of the bed. "Come join me?"

Derek's eyes go wide and then narrow into something heated. "You sure about that?"

Stiles blushes. "I'm not injured that much. I think I could handle some kissing. I mean, that's what boyfriends do, right? You're supposed to kiss it and make it all better."

Something shifts in Derek's demeanor, changing him from average high school student to predator. He pushes the chair back toward Stiles's desk and climbs on the bed. The mattress dips with the new weight. Stiles's whole body is alive with expectation.

"You know," Derek says, "I've heard close contact helps manage pain."

Stiles hums. "I'm willing to test that. For science."

"For science," Derek agrees. His hands are gentle as they turn Stiles to face Derek. Stiles can never get over how perfect it feels when Derek's lips cover his. It's like being in a hot bath. He's warm all over and relaxed. His thoughts quiet, focusing only on Derek's lips and hands and the press of his body. One of Derek's hands slides down Stiles's side and slips under the hem of Stiles's shirt. He shivers. Derek's touch is so warm. Stiles's pain drains away. Is this some kind of werewolf mojo? He'll have to ask Deaton.

Later. When Derek Hale isn't kissing him and pulling him close.

Stiles isn't going anywhere for a while.

* * *

"Christ on a crutch." Erica drops into the seat next to him and gapes. "Who'd you piss off?"

Stiles groans. "I didn't do anything." Erica raises an eyebrow. "This time. Okay? Just two seniors being homophobic jerks."

He knows it's more than that. He checked them out. He might have gone a little obsessive looking them up in the Sheriff's Office's database. The two bullies—Reddick and Unger, as Laura had helpfully supplied—had both spent time in juvie for arson. It's not hard to figure out who's really behind it. She's probably also the reason Harris has been targeting Stiles with detentions. Hot future arsonist, lonely chemist. He wouldn't be surprised if Harris knew a few things about starting a fire.

Kate wants Derek. Kate thinks Derek is her in for the Hale house, so she can kill everyone. Stiles took that option away from her, and by doing so had painted a giant target on his back. What Kate probably hasn't realized is that Stiles can out stubborn a rock. If he doesn't want to move, he won't, and where Derek's concerned, he's granite.

It's worth it when Derek sits next to him and kisses Stiles's un-bruised cheek. "Hey, sweetness."

"Hey, hotness." Stiles smiles and leans into Derek's side. Derek shifts closer and wraps his arm around Stiles.

Yeah, he's definitely not letting Kate Fucking Argent ruin this. She's going to have to do way better than two juvie thugs.

"You!" Stiles's head snaps up. He recognizes that voice. Derek groans and Cora laughs. Laura Hale is leaning between Cora and Scott, finger an inch from Stiles's face. "Did Derek ask you yet?"

"Christ, Laura, I just sat down," Derek grumbles, face in hand.

Stiles blinks. "Ask me what?"

Laura pulls her hand back, but keeps looming. "You. Dinner. Next Friday, after you're less..." She gestures at his bruised face. "Our house."

He stares. "Was that a question?"

"Not really, no."

Derek rolls his eyes. "Yes, it's a question. You don't have to come if you don't want to, but my family wants to meet you."

"Because we're tired of listening to you moon over someone only Cora's met."

Derek's blush goes all the way up to his ears and Stiles grins. "You mooned?" He bites back a werewolf joke. Too soon for that yet.

Cora chuckles. "Before and after Paige. He kept asking me to invite you over so he could talk to you, but I wanted to torment him a bit instead. You know, make him grow balls and talk to you himself."

Stiles's eyes are like saucers and he gapes. "What? But..."

Derek shrugs. "I told you I liked you. Didn't believe me?"

He remembers what Derek had said their first lunch together. The words are seared into his brain. Derek likes Stiles's hands and his mouth. He'd thought it was just teasing since they were making sex jokes, but what if.... He stares down at his skinny, pale fingers.

"He was your secret admirer," Cora said. "But also chickenshit."

"Hey!" Derek protests while his sisters snicker. They're not the only ones. Erica has her head buried in Boyd's shoulder while she shakes with laughter and Scott and Isaac are both grinning in that way that means Derek is never going to live this down.

"Anyway," Laura says, clearing the air with a wave. "Are you coming to dinner next Friday? There is only one acceptable answer."

Stiles smiles. Derek is trying to hide his obvious hopefulness. "Yeah. I'd love to."

"Great. See you then." Laura bounces off, leaving the rest of the table still snickering at Derek.

Stiles turns and curls against Derek's shoulder. "So, either you're really good at hiding affection or I'm oblivious."

The table doesn't even hesitate to chorus "oblivious." Stiles needs better friends.

* * *

"Don't be mad," Derek says as Stiles climbs into the Camaro. That's never a great way to start a conversation, though Stiles has no idea what Derek would have to do to make him mad. Derek's been extra sweet since those bullies went after Stiles. He raises an eyebrow in question and Derek continues. "There's this study group in Ms. Smith's class that meets twice a week after school. It's a lot of extra credit and I could really use some."

Stiles's eyes narrow. Yep, that does make him mad.

Derek raises his palms in surrender. "I don't have to go. I can study on my own."

Stiles shakes his head. He scrubs his palms over his face. His hair is getting long. He should probably cut it but he doesn't want to go back to a buzz. He likes the feeling of Derek's fingers in his hair.

"No," Stiles says. "I'm not mad at you. I..." He's mad at that plotting bitch but he can't tell Derek that. "I'm being stupid. She's your teacher. You should go. There will be other people there." Stiles bites his lip. He doesn't want to say it, but the words are on the tip of his tongue. Kate Argent is a monster.

"Hey," Derek says, resting his hand on Stiles's arm. "I won't go if it upsets you."

Stiles snorts. "You make me sound like a jealous idiot. Which I kind of am."

Derek grins. "I'm okay with that. Besides, you're my jealous idiot. You know I'm not interested in her, right? Not when I've got you."

Stiles slumps in his seat with a sigh. "Yeah. I know that. And I trust you, but... She's a serious creeper, Derek, and she's not as squeaky clean as she pretends to be."

Derek's eyebrows shoot up. "You did a background check on my English teacher?"

Stiles shrugs. "To be fair, I do it for every new teacher. I'm still mad that I could never find anything on Harris to get him fired. I still check periodically."

"How do you even have access-" Derek trails off and laughs. "No, wait. I don't want to know. Plausible deniability." There's that grin that Stiles loves so much.

Stiles smiles back. "Let's just say that my dad is very bad at choosing passwords."

"Good to know. Keep the felonies to a minimum, please."

Stiles winks. "I'd commit a felony for you. As long as it's worth getting arrested for. There's a betting pool at the station on what my first felony arrest is going to be for. I put my money on breaking and entering."

Derek shakes his head. "You're wonderful, you know that, right?"

Stiles blushes and looks down at his knees. He's never going to get used to Derek saying nice things about him.

"So, ready to go meet my family?"

Stiles's good mood dies. He fakes a smile but doesn't look up as he says, "Yeah. Sally forth, or whatever."

The drive isn't long, and Derek fills it by talking about what they're studying in English. Oedipus and Antigone. Greek classics. Stiles almost rolls his eyes at the obvious connection. Kate may not be Derek's mother, but Oedipus's romance isn't a far stretch from what she's plotting. People die in both scenarios.

"We're here."

Stiles blinks and looks up. The Hale house is massive. It needs to be to house the whole family. It's strange seeing it like this, whole and uncharred. It's horrible to think that all of this will burn.

"Stiles, are you okay?"

Stiles jerks back to the present. Derek's squeezing his arm. Judging by the concern on Derek's face, Stiles had gone away a bit there. That happens sometimes when he's this close. Stiles nods and pulls away from Derek to get out of the car.

"We don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable."

Stiles forces a small, tight smile and takes Derek's hand in his. "I want to meet your family. I want to see your home and meet the people who are important to you. I want to be here." He just doesn't want to go home tonight and have names to put to the faces of the dead in his nightmares.

Derek nods and pulls Stiles into a quick kiss. "Just say the word and I'll take you home."

"Have I told you lately that you're the best?"

Derek tugs Stiles closer and puts his arm around Stiles's waist. "I know I am, but I wouldn't mind hearing it a few more times."

Stiles snorts and bumps into Derek's shoulder. He can do this. Derek's here and he's alive. His family is too. This is what's real. Not his dreams. Not yet.

He follows Derek up the porch stairs. His fingers slide across the wood, giving him flashes of happier times. Their family has lived here for generations. It's their home, their safety. They haven't harmed anyone and expect hunters to leave them alone. He traces runes against the railing and sends out hope for safety and prosperity.

"You sure you're okay?" Derek asks. He's already through the front door.

"Yeah." Stiles smiles. He doesn't have to fake it—much—with the memories of the Hales still fresh in his mind. "Just admiring the house. It's amazing."

Derek smiles back. "Yeah, it is. Been in the family for generations, though there have been some add-ons. We're a pretty big family."

"Sounds nice." Derek doesn't comment on the longing in Stiles's voice. Stiles has never had much of a family. It was just his mom, his dad, and the grandfather they never speak to. When his mom died, it felt like he'd lost both of his parents. He's been alone for a long time.

"You'll like them." Derek takes Stiles's hand and pulls him inside.

A cacophony of voices hits him. The house feels warm and bright. It's welcoming. There are obvious signs that it's lived in—scattered shoes in the hallway, an array of fashion choices in the hung-up coats, toys hidden under tables and in corners to avoid being stepped on. Pictures decorate the walls. He recognizes most of the faces. It's strange to see the Hales preserved here, happy and alive.

Derek guides him in further, pointing out the kitchen, bathroom, dining room. They step into the living room. Two older men sit on opposite ends of a couch, reading, though they lower their books when Stiles enters. There are children. He counts four playing in front of the TV and hears a fifth and sixth elsewhere in the house. He's never tried to count how many people die in the fire but these kids are so young.

His vision is overlaid with faces twisted in burning agony and dead faces already gone still.

"Sorry," he says, already turning. "I have to-" His stomach surges and he barely makes it to the bathroom in time to vomit into the toilet.

Someone follows him inside and shuts the door that Stiles had left open. They rub Stiles's back as Stiles's stomach evacuates its entire contents. This is so gross. So embarrassing. At least he can blame the tears on the vomiting. What a way to make a first impression.

When his heaving turns up only air, an arm reaches over Stiles to flush the toilet. He doesn't want to look up and see which Hale got to see him at his finest, though he can guess. The rest of them had to have heard it. Except the humans, maybe. Deaton had said that werewolves have humans in their packs.

"You feeling better?" Derek asks. He doesn't stop rubbing Stiles's back and Stiles is grateful for the connection.

Stiles shakes his head. He wants something to rinse his mouth out, but he's afraid moving will start the process all over again.

"Do you need anything?"

"Water?"

"Just a sec." Derek leaves. Stiles curses under his breath once he's alone. He wants to meet Derek's family. He does. But his visions have been going on for so long that he can't see anything but fire.

Another round of tears starts. He's fucking useless. He hasn't stopped anything. He only made it worse and made himself a target. He needs something on Kate, something that he can use to get her arrested.

FBI, maybe? What if Kate's done this before? What if the Hales aren't the only ones? Scott's dad is in the FBI. Stiles could....

"Here." Derek returns with a glass of water. He helps Stiles to his feet and over to the sink. Stiles rinses his mouth out and takes the washcloth Derek offers to clean his face.

He feels like such an ass when he asks, "Can you take me home, please? I don't think food's a good idea right now."

Derek doesn't even hesitate. "Yeah. Of course. Do you need anything? I think we have Tums and Alka-Seltzer somewhere."

There are definitely humans in the pack. "I'm sorry. I really wanted-"

"Hey, it's okay." Derek says that like it's true. Maybe it is for him, but not for Stiles. "You can't control being sick. The meatloaf at lunch did look questionable."

He doesn't deserve Derek. He's selfish. There are ways to sabotage Kate and Derek getting together that don't involve dating Derek and lying to him, but Stiles wants this so bad. He's in love with Derek. So in love that he can't even imagine letting go. He'll be an absolute wreck if he ever loses Derek. If he's honest, he doesn't think he can survive losing the Hales. He'll probably end up back in Eichen.

"What's going through your head?" Derek asks on the drive to Stiles's house.

Stiles almost tells him. The words are on the tip of his tongue. He wants to spill all his secrets. He wants to tell Derek everything, to take the overwhelming weight of the future off his shoulders. But he can't. He'd rather see everything go up in fire than see betrayal on Derek's face. It's horrible and selfish, but he can't do it.

"Do you..." He's going to Hell. Maybe he's there already. "Do you like parties?"

Derek glances at him, eyebrow raised. "Depends on the party."

Stiles licks his lips. "How about Lydia Martin's Halloween party?"

"I think I could be convinced."

Stiles smiles. "Really?"

"Maybe."

Stiles shakes his head. "Jerk."

"Yeah, but I'm a hot jerk and you love me." The smile Derek turns on him is blinding.

Stiles sinks back in his chair. He doesn't feel better or less guilty, but eventually he could. "Yeah, Derek. Yeah, I do."

* * *

"Hey, Hale." The entire table looks up as Jackson Whittemore saunters over. He's got that malicious gleam in his eye that means he's up to no good. "Don't you know you're dating a psychopath?"

The entire cafeteria goes silent. Stiles freezes. He wants to run, to get away from this conversation right now but he can't move. Scott comes to Stiles's defense, standing up and glaring at Jackson. "Fuck off. Stiles isn't crazy."

Jackson grins. He looks straight at Derek as he responds to Scott. "Then why'd he spend a year in Eichen House?" Fuck. Fuck. Stiles's chest hurts. His vision blurs. He can't breathe. "What was it they put in your file? Paranoid schizophrenic? A danger to himself and others? Overwhelming delusions?"

Oh, God. Jackson got a hold of his file. How? It should be confidential.

"You wouldn't shut up about how someone was going to shoot your mom. Too bad she died anyway. Dementia, right?"

No. No. No. Stiles shakes his head. His whole body is shaking but he still can't move. He can't get away from this horror show.

"What else was it? A house fire?" Jackson puts on a mask of fake concern and looks at Derek. "Hasn't he told you? It was your house that he kept talking about burning down. I wouldn't trust a lunatic like that if I were you."

Cora and Derek both turn to stare at him and Stiles can't. He's pretty sure he throws up his lunch in the trashcan by the door, but he can't tell. He's running and crying and everything's a blur. He has no idea how Jackson found out about the fire. He'd only mentioned the Hales to his psychiatrist and that was one time. He'd slipped. He hadn't realized she'd written it down. That there was a record.

Fuck. He's dead. Once Kate finds out, she's going to put a bullet in him, just like the hunters that were after his mom.

And Derek. Oh, God, Derek.

He can't handle any of this. He can't deal. He keeps running right out of the building. He's not sure he'll ever stop.

* * *

"Stiles?"

The soft voice makes Stiles's head shoot up. Derek's standing a few feet away, at the edge of the bleachers. He looks afraid to come any closer.

Stiles's laugh is as bitter as the bile in his mouth. He buries his face in his hands again. God, he doesn't want to deal with this. That was part of the reason they locked him up in the first place, because he couldn't watch his mother die over and over and not do anything.

Derek comes closer. He stops and crouches down. His hand feels like a weight on Stiles's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Stiles chokes on another laugh. He pushes his hair back and glances at Derek through the break between his arms. "No. I'm really not."

Derek moves to sit next to Stiles. Their bodies meet at shoulder and hip and Stiles wants nothing more than to lean into Derek.

He doesn't deserve that. He never did.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Derek asks.

No, he really does not. "I should have told you."

There's a pause before Derek speaks. "Jackson had no right to say those things. Whatever happened, that's between you and your doctors. You don't owe me anything."

Stiles shakes his head. "Not about that. About the fire."

"There was no fire. You don't have to-"

"Yes," Stiles bites out. "Yes, I do." Stiles meets Derek's gaze head on. He's not sure what he looks like right now. Determined or deranged? It doesn't matter. "There is going to be a fire. Ms. Smith... she's a hunter. An Argent, but she doesn't follow the code. She's crazy and she wants to kill your whole family. When everyone's gathered for the full moon. I can't tell the day, just that it's cold and it's soon. She's going to trap everyone inside and burn them to death." Stiles unsuccessfully tries to blink back tears. "She's going to kill you."

Derek's gone white as a ghost. His eyes flash yellow when Stiles mentions the threat to his pack. It takes obvious effort not to show claws or fangs. "You... What? How could she..."

Stiles pities Derek. As much as Stiles loves the Hales, they're Derek's family. It's Derek's life on the line now. All because Stiles screwed up. He intervened. He got too close. He fell in love.

"She's psychotic," Stiles says, his voice soft. "Way crazier than me. She takes pleasure in killing supernaturals. Not just werewolves. Anything."

Derek's eyes widen. "You knew? Why didn't you say something?"

"Because that would mean explaining how I know. I don't care that you're a werewolf." He tries to take Derek's hand but Derek pulls away. He looks at Stiles like he's never seen him before. "I just... I don't want you to die. I don't want your family to die. Cora, Laura..." He wraps his arms around his chest and leans back against a support pole. "This is so messed up, Derek. I never wanted you to find out this way."

Derek's expression becomes increasingly closed off with each passing second. "You were never going to tell me, were you?"

Stiles hesitates. "It's not... It's not about trusting you. I do. I love you. More than I ever thought I could. But I've seen how this plays out." Stiles laughs bitterly. "I see how everything plays out. No one believes me, I get sent to Eichen, and everyone dies anyway. It's... It's tearing me apart. I can't... I don't know how much longer I can do this, the lying and visions and never trusting anyone. If you die..."

He doesn't care that he's crying. It doesn't matter, not when Derek looks so hurt. Stiles isn't sure what he's more affected by, his family's future or the lies of the present. "But we would have-"

Stiles shakes his head. "You would think I'm crazy. That's what you thought when Jackson said all that stuff, right? That it was just some delusion. You probably still do. It's not, but I don't have the best track record of people believing me. That's why I was locked in Eichen House when my mom died."

Derek's hand twitches toward Stiles, but they don't connect.

Words spill out of Stiles. It's like a dam bursts inside of him and he's pouring everything out in front of Derek. "It was Kate's father..." He swallows. If he hadn't already thrown up, he probably would again. 

"Gerard Argent was planning to kill my mother. He was going to put a bullet in her head." Stiles stares up at the wood of the bleachers. "She'd seen something. I don't know what. I never found out. It stopped him from killing a lot of people. I was too young to understand the bigger picture. Werewolves and hunters. All I knew was that I dreamt of her dying every night. My mom believed me, but her disease had already started effecting her brain. Eventually, she thought I was the one trying to kill her." 

She'd tried to kill him back. Stiles still has scars. His dad couldn't deal so he's sent his mom to the hospital and Stiles to the looney bin. There's a reason he doesn’t trust easily. Not even Erica and Scott.

"Even after I got out of Eichen House, the visions never stopped. I just... I pretended so they wouldn't put me back." He looks back at Derek. Derek's face is a stone mask. He can't tell if Derek believes him or not. He keeps talking. Words are all he has left. "I've watched your family burn a thousand times and it wrecks me. I... I can't sleep anymore, not for long. I'm so tired. I couldn't tell anyone. Not even your family."

He pleads with Derek. "I can't go back to Eichen House. I can't. It was hell. There are things..." His throat closes as he remembers the sadistic nurses. The things that weren't even human, kept locked away below the surface. He trembles. Years later and he's still terrified of that place. "I took the pills they prescribed until they stopped monitoring me. Dad still thinks I take them, but I just flush them down the toilet every morning. He works nights so he doesn't have to listen to me screaming."

Stiles lets his gaze wander over Derek's face. He's not sure he'll ever get to see it again. Not like this. "Kate Argent is going to kill you. I thought... I thought if she couldn't use you to get in, then there would be no fire, but the visions haven't stopped and I haven't found anything solid that I can take to my dad or the FBI."

Derek frowns. "Use me? How would she..."

Stiles hates telling the truth. He hates how it's hurting Derek, but he deserves to know. If he never sees Derek again after this, then he needs to leave the Hales prepared. More prepared than whatever Deaton did after Stiles told him. It wasn't enough. "She was going to seduce you. Make you fall in love with her so you'd give her all the Hale secrets. So she could block the hidden tunnels and trap everyone inside. She still thinks she can get to you."

Derek pales. He shakes his head rapidly. "I wouldn't... I would never..."

"You did, in other futures. You would have."

"That's why you pulled me away? To keep Ms. Smith—Kate Argent—from me?" Derek stumbles to his feet. Stiles wants to reach for him, to keep Derek here so he can explain, but he has no good explanation. He can't fix this. He can't fix anything. "You're only with me because of her?"

The accusation in Derek's voice feels like a knife in his chest. Stiles looks up at Derek. "No. It's not... I love you. Really, actually love you. Yes, I pulled you out of that classroom to stop her but that's not why I agreed to date you. I spent so much time watching you, waiting for Kate to show up. How could I not fall in love with you? You're amazing."

Derek's eyes are wide. Stiles gets that. It's a lot to take in. It's a world-shattering amount of information.

Derek shakes his head and Stiles knows it's over. "I have to... I can't..."

"It's okay," Stiles says, even though it really, really isn't.

Derek flees and takes the shattered remains of Stiles's heart with him.

It's dark by the time Stiles crawls out from under the bleachers. Someone's spray-painted 'psycho' on the side of his Jeep. He snorts. They're close, but the real term is psychic. Or maybe he is psychotic. He knows he's not completely sane, not after all the things he's seen.

He has his keys in the lock when someone grabs him from behind. There's a cloth pressed over his mouth, forcing him to breathe in a noxious chemical. "I've been waiting for you." Kate. That's Kate's voice. "You and I need to have a chat."

No. His body is already succumbing to the chloroform. He can't... He doesn't want to go out like this. He doesn't want to die while the Hales are still in danger.

The world goes dark as he slumps to the ground. At least if he's unconscious, death won't hurt.

* * *

Stiles wakes with a massive headache. It hurts so bad he almost wishes Kate had put a bullet in him. That would certainly hurt less.

He must make some noise or movement that signals he's awake. Heels clack on concrete and then Kate's slapping his face. "Wakey, wakey, sunshine."

Stiles groans and rolls his head back to glare at her. "Fuck. Off." His body's not one-hundred percent online so he garbles the words, but the intention is clear.

Kate smiles. Stiles shudders. He's seen that smile before. It's the way she looks while she watches the Hales burn. Is that what she's going to do to him? They used to burn witches. He probably comes close enough for her.

"Now, now, Stiles. That's no way to speak to your host." She walks away and pauses at a nearby table. One glance at the table's contents is enough to make Stiles's stomach turn. There's too much shiny metal. He can guess what's about to happen.

Kate picks up a knife and examines it. The overhead lights glint off its polished surface.

"I'm not going to tell you anything, so you can just let me go now and maybe I won't have my father, you know, the Sheriff, arrest you."

"I'm not worried about the Sheriff." Kate turns to study him. "You are going to talk to me, sweet thing. They all do eventually."

Kate's words trigger a vision. He gasps as his brain is flooded with the faces of all the people Kate has tortured. He's not sure if he's hearing their screams or his own.

Pain pulls him back. Kate's face is too close and she has his chin clenched in her grip. "Fascinating. What'd you see, little psychic?"

Stiles spits in her face. Her backhanded slap nearly topples the chair he's bound to.

"Don't start that, sweetheart. It's going to be painful enough as it is." She stalks back to the table and picks up a scalpel. "So how about you tell me everything you know about the Hales?"

Stiles is a fan of going out with a bang, not a whimper. "I know you're a sick fuck that needs to be put down."

Kate swipes at him and Stiles screams at the scalpel cuts a long gash across his cheek. "You shouldn't be talking like that if you can't handle a little pain."

He is not going to let her win. His dad will notice he's missing eventually. By morning at the very least. Or Scott might, if Stiles doesn't answer his texts. Does he even have his phone or did Kate take it? Is there any way to track his location?

"Start talking." Kate presses the blade under his chin.

He trembles. He's never been good with pain, not when he's left raw dreaming about the pain of others. She's going to cut him and it's going to hurt but he can't tell her anything. Even if she kills him—and she's definitely going to kill him—he's not giving her the Hales. He's fought so long to keep them safe. He's not giving up now.

"Go kill yourself," Stiles says. The cut hurts just as much as he expects.

He doesn't give her what she wants. He slowly devolves into a trembling, sobbing mess but he doesn't tell her about the Hales. Not the stuff she wants, anyway. He focuses on Derek. He loves Derek. A love so deep it hurts. He tells her about getting lost in Derek's eyes. He tells her how softly Derek kisses. He tells her that he won't let her ruin him, not if he has to die a thousand times.

He talks until words don't mean anything anymore. She cuts and hits and burns. All of Stiles's training with Deaton is useless. He'd been focused on protecting a location, not protecting himself.

A loud noise makes Kate stop and pull a gun. Oh, good, she's going to kill him now. He's ready for it to be over. But she's not looking at him. He thinks he hears gunshots and a roar. That's not supposed to happen. Argents and Hales? Chris and Peter move like they're dancing together. Doesn't he go to school with Allison? Scott has a crush on her.

A door burst open, bringing the noise closer. Multiple roars answer the first. The sounds bounce and echo like a choir of rage. So much noise. He just wants it to be over. He thinks it will be soon. The floor around him is covered in blood.

Derek's face fills his vision. Stiles blinks. Derek's lips are moving but all Stiles can hear are gunshots and death. Derek looks upset.

"I din'a..." It hurts to move his mouth. He may have lost a few teeth. He can taste blood. "...din'a tell..." That doesn't make Derek happy. "Ser'ry. 'm ser'ry. Don' die. Can' die."

Black lines crawl up Derek's arms. The pain is gone. Nothing hurts anymore. Is this what it feels like to die? He's okay with that. Derek's safe. Kate's gone and Derek's safe.

Mission accomplished.

Stiles lets go of consciousness. He lets go of everything.

* * *

Brunette children run through a sun-lit field. They're laughing, shrieking with delight as a pair of adults chase them. One of the adults turns. Stiles would know that face anywhere. It's Derek. He holds a hand out toward Stiles. Stiles takes the hand.

He's at a wedding. It's a simple ceremony in the Hale's backyard. Two men stand under an arch covered in white blossoms. One man has a greying beard, the other a trimmed goatee. Allison and Cora stand on either side. Cora passes the rings to the officiant. Derek leans close to whisper in Stiles's ear, "We're next."

Bullets. An angry old man. Poison choking the air. Men in tactical vests fight fully-shifted wolves. Too many die on either side. Stiles watches the wolves fall and screams. He won't allow this. He won't let the Hales die. He screams and the enemy men fly backwards. Blood runs from their noses and ears. They stare vacantly at the sky.

"Stiles!"

He's distantly aware of a voice calling him.

"Stiles!"

That's Derek's voice. He loves Derek. He doesn't want to ever be without Derek.

"Stiles!"

He wakes with a gasp. His entire body seizes and he screams in pain. Hands grab his arms and then the pain disappears, gone like it never existed. Stiles blinks up at the white lights in the ceiling. He hears rapid beeping. His heart rate. Hospital.

Stiles blinks again and looks at the faces beside him. Cora and Derek hover on either side, black trailing up their arms.

God. Derek. He can't help the goofy grin that takes over his face. "You don't hate me." His voice is raspy. He's been screaming a lot, but at least he can get the words out.

"No, Stiles, I don't hate you." Derek's smile is blinding. Stiles wants to bask in it.

"You two are gross," Cora says.

Stiles attempts to flip her off but his arms are being held down and they don't particularly want to move anyway. "Derek, flip her off for me, please?" Derek does. He's a keeper. Cora and Derek swat at each other over him. He grins as he watches.

"That's enough." A female voice cuts through the fighting and Derek and Cora immediately drop back in their chairs, faces blank and innocent. Stiles rolls his head to look at the woman. She's tall with long black hair. She commands the room with her presence alone. An Alpha.

Stiles's dad is beside her and Stiles stares down at Derek and Cora's arms in horror. He tries to jerk away but they grip his arms tighter.

"It's okay, Stiles," John says. He takes a step forward and bows his head as he runs a hand through his hair. "I owe you an apology. Probably several." John glances back at the Hale Alpha. "Talia's explained quite a few things and... and I guess we've got a lot to talk about. Later. After you're feeling better."

What? He's not sure he heard that right. "Dad?"

John's smile is tinged with sadness. He steps up beside Derek and places a hand on Stiles's head. "I'm really sorry I didn't believe you. I'm sorry for what I put you through."

Stiles shakes his head. John looks like he's about to cry which only makes Stiles want to cry. It's an ouroboros of tears.

"We owe you our thanks," Talia says. "For interceding on our behalf. For warning us."

"I should have-"

Talia cuts him off with a look. "There are many things that should have been done, but none are your fault."

Stiles swallows painfully. He really is going to cry soon. He's put all this pressure on himself for years because he was afraid that he wouldn't be believed and here's Talia and Derek and Cora and his dad all saying they believe him. His cheeks are damp but he doesn't care.

"It's not..." He coughs and his dad helps him sit up to drink some water. Stiles continues after he's eased back down. He looks straight at Talia. "It's not over. Not fully. Gerard Argent. He's going to come with hunters. He's going to start a war."

Talia frowns but John beats her to speaking. "He can try, but that's not going to fly in my town."

Stiles smiles. He'd forgotten how amazing his dad can be.

"We can discuss the Argents later," Talia says.

John runs his hand over Stiles's hair before stepping away. "You should be resting. You were hurt pretty bad." He looks pointedly at Derek and Cora. "You've got some good guardians right now, so try to get some more sleep."

Stiles nods. He just woke up but sleep sounds pretty good. The floaty feeling left by Cora and Derek draining his pain makes him tired. He doesn't want to think about his injuries just now. He doesn't want to know which will leave scars. Instead, he turns his arm so he can catch Derek's hand in his. Derek is warm to the touch. That's just what Stiles needs to drift off again.

When he wakes up, he won't be alone. Not anymore.


End file.
